


If you want me, If you need me, I'm yours

by PeonyParty



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-11-27 21:11:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 19,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20954975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeonyParty/pseuds/PeonyParty
Summary: Mike and Eleven have split up after over a decade-long relationship. How will their roles as Best Man and Maid of Honour in their best friends' wedding impact their attempts at moving on and regaining a sense of normalcy?





	1. Maid of Honour

When she arrives to “The Blackbird” café, Max is already sitting at one of the patio tables, her red hair twisted into loose bun on her head. She looks awfully cheerful for it being a cloudy day, and Eleven is not planning on ruining her cheerful disposition by complaining about her work overload. She just barely made it on time from the office, hair a mess of curls, face flushed.  
“What happened?” Max asks at the first sight of her. She gets up to offer her flustered friend a hug. Eleven barely knows friendly decorum these days, but she leans over the table and embraces Max. The redhead smells like peaches, fruity and girly. Long over are the days when Eleven washed her hair with anything but the standard fair. When did she become so boring?  
“Got held up at work,” Eleven sighs.  
“It’s Saturday,” Max laughs. “Do you ever, I dunno, not work?”  
Eleven rolls her eyes. “Sorry we can’t all be working standard 9 to 5s.”  
“That’s rude, and you know it.” The redhead says. “In any case, I get to deal with the same kind of crazies you do.”  
“I’ll withhold comment on that one.” Eleven says with a grin, looking through the menu. “What was the rush meeting today by the way? Didn’t you just get back last night?”  
“What, I can’t see my best friend without an ulterior motive?” Max teases.  
“I figured you wanted to show off your tan.”  
“Well, the tan is non-existent anyways. But there’s something better.”  
Max and her long-term boyfriend Lucas had just returned from their two-week vacation extravaganza in Hawaii, and though Eleven was as happy as a clam to see her best friends finally get time off work for such a trip, she was just a little bit jealous. Let’s just say that a stiff drink, the hot sun and the sound of waves crashing against the shore sounded particularly nice right now.  
It takes Eleven a moment to catch on when her friend shoves her hand just a few inches from her face. A beautiful sparkling diamond adorns her ring finger. Eleven gasps.  
“About time!” She exclaims, taking a closer look. “It’s gorgeous!”  
The ring is tasteful and must have cost a fortune. But Lucas has just gotten a huge promotion, with a serious bonus to boot. So it’s only fair he get the best for Max. 

Max squeals in a very dramatic fashion. It is very unlike her to get excited over rings and sparkly things, but Eleven guesses that when it comes to engagement rings, even the most tomboyish of girls get giddy.  
“I can’t believe I didn’t suspect a thing.” Max says, looking past Eleven with a dreamy expression.  
“That’s very unlike you, Max.”  
“I stopped getting excited about it a long time ago.” she says simply. “I knew it was going to happen at some point, we’ve been together long enough.”  
Eleven nods, trying her best to avoid entering the part of her brain where her relationship with Mike is still stored. She looks at the menu again, debating between a caramel latte and cappuccino. As if they’re that different.  
It seems that Max realizes the air has changed, because she gives Eleven a tight smile. Who can blame a girl getting excited about being proposed to? They’ve been together for over a decade. Not Max’s fault that Eleven’s decade long relationship ended disastrously.  
“I wanted to tell you as soon as possible, because I have something to ask you.” Max says.  
Eleven cocks a brow.  
“What can I get you?”  
Their server is a tall man with a fashionable haircut and a strong jaw. He takes the order of a cappuccino and pan de chocolat for Eleven, and a drip coffee for Max. The redhead waits for him to walk away before she leans in to speak.  
“El, I know that things are less than stellar in your life right now.”  
Eleven tries hard not to cringe, but the speech has already started and there’s no going back.  
“Let’s not talk about that,” El suggests. “This is a happy occasion.”  
Max ignores her. “I can imagine that the last thing you want to do right now is be involved in a wedding, so soon after… what happened.”  
“Max, nothing happened. Mike and I broke up. It was a mutual decision.”  
Max gives her another tight smile. “I know El, but let me finish.”  
Eleven concedes.  
“When we got engaged, I knew immediately that I wanted you to be my Maid of Honour. Hell, I knew it before I ever thought I’d be getting married to Lucas. You’re this amazing woman who has been through so much. For Christ’s sake El, you saved the world what, like 4 times? 5? Anyways, I love you to bits and I want nothing more than have you there next to me on my big day.”  
El smiles throughout the speech. It’s hard to be upset at the mention of Mike, when her friend is saying such nice words about her. “Max, that is such an incredible honour! But, I always figured you’d ask your cousin. You know, the one from California.”  
Max grins, “Jenna? She was the runner up, in case you refused.”  
“Well, I’m accepting. Jenna can go bleep herself.”  
“That’s what I wanted to hear!” Her friend beams. But the beaming doesn’t last longer than a split second, because her face expression turns nervous and grave almost immediately.  
“There’s one other thing though.”  
Eleven takes a deep breath in preparation.  
“We kind of had an issue with the Best Man selection.”  
Realization dawns on Eleven and her stomach drops.  
“Lucas wants Mike, doesn’t he?”  
Max nods.  
It’s no surprise really, that Lucas would pick Mike. The two have been working in the same department for at least the past three years. Lucas practically got Mike his job, and by all means of measure, out of the four childhood friends, the two developed the closest bond post high school.  
“We came to an agreement though,” the redhead says. “If you’re not comfortable, Lucas will pick Will.”  
Eleven shakes her head. “Max, there’s nothing I want less than to have Lucas not pick who he wants to be his Best Man because of me. I’ll be fine. Really.”  
Max doesn’t look too confident with the answer, but she doesn’t argue. 

They have their coffees, and Eleven scarfs down her pastry as the conversation revolves around dress shopping and some cute shoes Max saw in the department store. It’s light and doesn’t cross into relationship territory more than, well, talking about weddings crosses into relationship territory. But soon they part with a hug and Max walks to her car with a pep in her step, her bun bouncing on her head. 

Eleven walks back to the office feeling like a truck has hit her full-speed. She’s not a jealous person. Even if she were, she’d never be jealous of her best friends. Max and Lucas have been dating nearly as long as she and Mike had been. It’s not their fault that El and Mike’s relationship imploded like it did. They deserve to get engaged and married. They deserve to have their friends cheering them on and supporting them. Helping them plan the most important day of their lives. 

It’s strange how it all happened, however. Eleven used to daydream, before it all turned to dust. A daydream she’d come back to once in a while. She’d close her eyes and imagine the two of them on the beach, the hot sand beneath their bare feet. Mike’s hair dishevelled and face more freckled than ever. She’d be wearing a cute swimsuit cover up. Sometimes it was white and ruffled, other times it was that bright yellow that contrasted so well with the blue waves behind them. They would be all alone, laughing and happy. He’s stop her at some point, shuffle around in his pocket and drop on one knee. His linen pants, or something else equally as awful would be covered in sand, but neither of them would care. He’d open the small ring box, the ring reflecting the sun so beautifully, and say those four words. He’d look into her eyes, searching for the answer nervously, and she’d say “Yes.” 

Even now, the daydream makes her smile. Mike and Eleven, existing only in that moment, playing out that scene over and over again. 

Eleven rubs her eyes and stares at the laptop screen. She’s made a mistake again. Sometimes it’s so hard to decipher what the clients write down and today is one of those days where her mind is elsewhere. 

She tries to focus again, but feels guilty. A nagging sort of guilt that comes with lying or withholding things. Her relationship with Mike did implode. Horribly so. But there’s a reason why it did, and it’s not what either one of them shared with their best friends. They had good reasons not to share in the beginning – the pregnancy was difficult. High risk. She wasn’t very far along and she didn’t want anyone’s pity when it all inevitably ended. But if she was so prepared, why did it hurt so much when it did end? It felt a little too late to explain after that. A little too raw to unearth those feelings. She had to get back to work, to apartment hunt and move out. Everything happened so fast that she struggled with the whiplash. Even now, three months later, she still feels exhausted. Doesn’t remember when she felt truly happy. 

Eleven pulls into her parking spot in that automatic way. The way in which your body moves based on muscle memory, but your thoughts are elsewhere and it’s almost surprising when you end up where you’re supposed to be. Unlocking the door, crossing the threshold of your small Chicago apartment. 

There was a time when coming home was the highlight of Eleven’s day. There was a time when she and Mike just leased their first apartment together. It was dingy and barely liveable, but Mike had picked her up and carried her over the threshold on their move-in day.  
“What in the world are you doing?” Eleven laughed, nuzzling her face in the crook of his neck. He smelled like pine, fresh and woodsy and she couldn’t get enough of it. She couldn’t get enough of him.  
“It’s what you do,” Mike said, though he didn’t know why it was that way. Maybe he’d seen it in a movie or heard it somewhere. It didn’t matter either way, because he laid her down on their mattress in the bedroom. They didn’t buy a bed frame until at least two weeks later, but in the moment it didn’t matter. She pulled him down on top of her, kissing his plush lips until they were both breathless and bothered. Mike’s breath on her neck made her shiver with want. He knew exactly how to make her want him. It wasn’t hard anyways. They were young and their only problems were burning the frozen pizza in their crappy oven and being late for class again.


	2. Best Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike and Eleven have split up after over a decade-long relationship. How will their roles as Best Man and Maid of Honour in their best friends' wedding impact their attempts at moving on and regaining a sense of normalcy?

Tuesdays are always the hardest for Mike. He microwaves his left over meat spaghetti, staring into space because he can’t seem to use his brain for much else today. The three or four cups of coffees consumed do nothing to help his brain function, so he’s given up on trying. The discrepancy has not yet been fixed and the deadline is soon approaching. Thursday, to be exact. Why’d he have to be such a screw up? 

He checks his phone as though expecting to see anything other than a never ending list of email notifications and three calls from his mom. She’s probably calling to ask how he’s doing. Again. If he were to call her back right now, the conversation would be the same as it has been every day since the break up.  
“Are you eating?” she’d say, her tone grave. “You know you have to eat. You can’t feel better on an empty stomach.”  
“I’m eating.” He’d say, frowning.  
“You sound tired.”  
“I am tired, mom. I’m not sleeping well.”  
She’d sigh and then go on her tirade again. “I just don’t understand how all of this happened, Mike. I have been asking you for years now to propose. But there’s always excuses with you.”  
“She didn’t want any of that. I told you.”  
“Of course she didn’t after she got pregnant, Mike. Nobody likes to feel like they're a means to an end. If you’d proposed and married her before it all happened, she wouldn’t have felt so alone. She’d have felt supported.”  
“I-” He’d try to find an excuse, or a reason. But there wouldn’t be one. In any case, it was too late to wonder if marrying Eleven before the pregnancy would have changed anything. For the better, anyways. 

“Hey man,” Lucas says, his hand gripping Mike’s shoulder. He groans. “Your spaghetti finished warming up like two minutes ago.”  
“Fuck,” Mike says, taking the Tupperware container out of the microwave. The smell of warm spaghetti perks him up a little bit, and he sits at the table where Lucas is already occupying a spot. He’s eating a sandwich, watching Mike curiously.  
“You okay?” Lucas asks, and Mike rolls his eyes. He would have rolled them all the way to the back of his skull if it meant not having to deal with whatever conversation is coming up. And it is coming up, that much is clear.  
“Okay, fine.” Lucas gets the hint. “I feel like a dick for telling you this so late. Sometimes even I forget that you’re not with El anymore and she doesn’t update you on all the happenings.”  
“Yeah, thanks.” Mike manages.  
“I proposed.” Lucas states matter of factly. “In Hawaii. I proposed to Max and well, she said ‘Yes.’”  
Mike inhales deeply. “Seriously?”  
“Yeah, we’re getting married.” A smile cracks through the serious exterior, and Mike can’t help but smile too.  
“Congratulations, wow!” Mike exclaims. “I had no idea you were planning to.”  
“Well I had to do it eventually. Can’t believe Max waited as long as she did anyways.”  
“Yeah,” Mike says.  
“Listen, Mike. Be my Best Man?”  
“You’re kidding.”  
“No, for real.”  
“Shit man, of course!”  
It feels appropriate to get up and hug. “Am I the first choice or did someone else decline?” Mike teases.  
Lucas grins, but doesn’t answer. “One thing though. Max wants Eleven to be her Maid of Honour. You know how close they are. I hope that’s not going to be a problem.”  
The mention of Eleven makes Mike take a deep breath. Sure he wants to be Lucas’ Best Man, but he doesn’t want to intrude. Eleven is probably not too pleased at Mike being chosen for the role. Not after everything that happened.  
“I dunno Lucas.” Mike says sincerely. “I don’t want Eleven to feel uncomfortable with the set up. I really want to. Maybe it’d be better-”  
“Max already told Eleven about you being the Best Man.”  
“You asked her before you even told me?”  
“Yeah sorry man. Like I said, sometimes I forget you’re not in the loop anymore.”  
“Right.”  
“The point is that El is fine with it. She said that she’s over it and doesn’t want… what happened to stand in the way.”  
“Oh.” Mike says, scratching the back of his head. “Well if she’s cool with it, so am I.”  
“Fantastic!” Lucas exclaims, packing his lunch away. “Let me know how those numbers are coming along. We don’t want Richard to bite our heads off on Thursday.”  
“I’ll send you something by the end of the day,” Mike says mindlessly, staring into his barely touched, and now cold, spaghetti. 

At home, Mike slouches on the couch and turns on the television mindlessly. It’s weird having to find and use the remote control after years of having El change channels with her powers. Now it’s just a mindless scroll of news and sitcoms that make him want to crawl under a bridge and die. The apartment looks exactly the same as Eleven left it. He’d been too busy to change things around. At least that’s what he’s told himself this whole time. Deadlines and trying to not fall apart every day sure leave very little time for interior decorating. Though he should probably at least take down that picture of the two of them on the console. 

There they are, El and Mike, happy as can be, just turned 19 or 20 - what does it matter anymore? Posing in front of the Eiffel Tower like a pair of dorks. It was their first trip abroad. They’d gone to Paris for spring break, and spent the majority of it inside, making love and eating the finest microwavable meals that Parisian supermarkets could offer in between. It’s surprising how clear the memories still are – El lying on the bed, her brown curls spread out like a halo on the pillow. Her lips red from being kissed, eyes bright and golden grown. The curve of her neck, the slope of her perfectly shaped breasts, her belly, the soft and smooth skin of her thighs. 

He puts the photo back. It’s strange living in this apartment without her. She left so quickly that a lot of her is still in this space. Hell, everything still smells like her. The spicy sweet scent of her perfume seems to permeate his clothes, the bedding. The couch. Mike wakes up every morning expecting to find her next to him, face squished against the pillows, lips slightly parted, breathing sweetly and content. It was always a different story once the alarm went off, at least in the last few years. El had been overworking herself. Her eyes were sunken in, and she lost weight. Especially when she’d gotten pregnant. She lost so much weight back then, being so sick. Mike wondered if she’d gained it back now. He hoped that she did. 

Mike feels happy for Max and Lucas. At least he knows he’s happy for them, even if he can’t exactly feel it right now. It reminds Mike of something he’d almost forgotten. He rummages through the drawer of the television console. The bright colours of some news coverage nearly blind him by the time he locates the little black velvet box. He straightens himself out, hesitates a moment before opening it. 

The diamond sparkles just as bright as it did when he first bought it. The gold band as shiny as ever, not tarnished by the nearly three years it has been left in the drawer, bidding its time. Mike bought it so long ago now that it feels wrong to even remember such a time. He’d been planning on proposing. They’d talked about it. For years they’ve talked about it, but it was never a good enough time. Mike wanted it to be special. He custom ordered the ring – engraved it to say “For my love, today and always.” Seems almost stupid reading it now. The plans kept falling through. First it was Bahamas. Then it was their trip to India. Then El got called to the bar and worked so hard. He wanted to just surprise her one evening with it. Mike remembered the rush he felt as he held the little box in his hand. He was going to do it today, tomorrow, the day after. She’d been in a lousy mood. Her boss was expecting her to stay at work until dawn, and El obliged. He didn’t know when they’d have an opportunity to go away. Time seemed to be slipping away from them. And then the baby. Well, things went downhill quickly after that. And it was all his fault.


	3. Crossing Paths

El has been dreading Friday and Saturday nights for some months now. Invitations for drinks, especially from her legal assistant Lisa, have been appreciated but often rejected. Lisa was very shocked and upset when she found out that El had broken up with her long-term boyfriend. Mike had been known to visit the office, to whisk El away from the endless piles of paperwork and phone calls. Lisa often told her that she was jealous of their relationship. “I want to find someone like Mike”, she’d say during lunch. And perhaps she’d found her Mike now. Lisa had been dating a new man for a few months. 

It comes as no surprise to El to find a text from Lisa on this particular Friday night, asking for a double date. Double date? El wonders what that means. One man and two women perhaps? A quick Google search reveals that it’s two couples on one date. 

_The guy I’m dating knows someone who just got out of a long-term relationship too and he thinks it might be fun to set you guys up._

That’s the text. 

Eleven mulls it over as she cycles between having her hair down and tying it up. Having it tied back opens up her face, but she is having a good hair day - her curls are looking particularly well shaped today. She’s frustrated over the options. It’s ridiculous, because tonight is Max and Lucas’ engagement party. It doesn’t matter what she looks like as long as Max looks amazing. But she is well aware that Mike will be there, and she hadn’t seen him since she took the last of her stuff from their previously shared apartment. Just thinking about this all makes her feel sick. 

She doesn’t regret her decision in breaking things off. To some it may come off as a selfish choice, but some wounds cannot be healed in the same environment they’re caused. Instead of supporting her, Mike had blamed her. “It’s not normal to be this sick,” he told her one night after she’d spent the majority of the evening puking and dry heaving. “You can’t go to work when you’re like this. You need to make a choice.”  
Was it really a choice when everything she worked for was going to be taken from her? She didn’t plan on getting pregnant. Neither did he. But why was she the one forced to make the ultimate compromise?

But then why did it feel so horrible, so gut-wrenchingly awful when she lost the baby? 

Eleven signs, looks at the smooth planes of her abdomen. She isn’t going to go down that path tonight. She needs to be happy and perfectly pleasant. She re-focuses on her outfit. Her dress fits her nicely. A red floral number with a cap sleeves and a round neckline. She’s wearing a lovely pair of red pumps to match. 

Earrings, a dainty necklace and her usual work watch make for good accessories. El looks at the red lipstick, considering. She avoided wearing bright lipsticks. Her job is more conservative in nature – red lipstick in the office hardly seems appropriate. Then there was that time. 

They were slightly drunk and incredibly happy, walking through the front door of their apartment before crashing onto the couch in a wild mess of limbs. They’d gone to a restaurant – a sophisticated affair to celebrate Mike’s new job. He wore his suit, which was just a smidge too small on his lanky frame, and she put on her beautiful silk slip dress. Her hair was long back then, cascading down her shoulders in waves. She’d worn red lipstick to match the dress, a nice fiery shade of red that made her feel fierce. It’s hard to remember who started it. They’d been so crazy for each other that it was inevitable. They were kissing with abandon, the straps on El’s dress pulled down, her hands twisted in his wild black hair as he kissed her neck, collarbones, shoulders…

They’d woken up the next morning, absolutely paralyzed with laughter. The dreaded red lipstick had smeared all over their faces and half of their bodies. It took nearly all the make-up remover Eleven had to get the stains off. El wasn’t very keen on wearing red lipstick again. 

But this was a long time ago, and she’s in no danger of being kissed tonight. It’s her best friends’ engagement party and she’s single. She applies the lipstick, surveys herself in the mirror. Pleased. 

Her resolve to have a perfectly pleasant time is quickly dashed, however. She’s nauseated from the nerves, keeping her gaze focused while she’s looking for Max at the venue. It’s a historic mansion, previously inhabited by some rich family or another. El loves the white columns in front of the entrance and the sophisticated décor. They’d set up some photos of Max and Lucas around the large dining area – a nice personal touch. 

But it’s hard to keep her eyes from wandering around the room, from inspecting small groups of people mingling together. There’s Will and Dustin, drinks in hand. She considers going up to chat, but she wants to find Max first. Yes, that’s what it is. It’s not that she’s looking around in hopes of seeing Mike. She’s not going to stoop down to that level.  
“You made it!” Max exclaims from behind her. She spins around, giving Max a relieved smile.  
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world!”  
Max gives her a one-over. “God, if I wasn’t confident in my own looks, I’d be so threatened by you right now.”  
“You’re getting married.” Eleven reminds her, grinning.  
“You know what I mean, El.” The redhead rolls her eyes.  
Even if not as striking as El’s floral dress, Max’s cornflower blue dress follows the curves of her body beautifully, reaching her ankles. A pair of white strappy heels peek from underneath the hemline. Her red locks are curled and pinned back. But her eyes, bright and happy and in love, are the highlight. Max looks stunning.  
“If you’re looking for Mike, he’s not here yet.” Max adds, bringing El back to reality. She didn’t even notice how her eyes started scanning their surroundings.  
“Oh, I was just trying to find Will and Dustin,” Eleven says quickly, hoping she fooled her friend. “I saw them around a second ago, just wanted to ask how things are going.”  
Max nods, pointing them out in the crowd. “Go get a drink first though. To take your mind off things for a little bit.”  
El grins and nods. 

She reaches the bar area, where at least a dozen people are crowded around the bartender, waiting on their drinks or waiting to order. There’s a sign with an exclusive couple drink – a White Russian. El feels a shiver run down her spine. Her instincts are better than the average person’s, so when she turns around to see Mike standing directly behind her, she isn’t surprised.  
He doesn’t notice her yet, or perhaps he does and is ignoring her. That’s what she should be doing too – ignoring him. Ignoring the fact that he’s here, standing sideways; chatting to someone she doesn’t know. Perhaps one of his and Lucas’ co-workers – many of those have been invited to the party. 

Eleven allows herself to see him, to truly look at him. Tall as ever, wearing a nice pair of black dress pants that fit just perfectly. She doesn’t remember those. The shirt though, she knows. It’s a white button-down with a pattern of small black beetles all over it. Standing even this far away, they look like little black dots. His hair is styled in that casual way, as though he didn’t try. Straight nose, wickedly handsome smile, dark eyes.  
“What would you like, Miss?”  
El returns her gaze to the bartender. He looks pleasant but somewhat annoyed at her surprised reaction. She is standing in line for a drink after all.  
“I’ll have a vodka soda.” El says quickly. She watches her drink being made, then takes it and turns to leave.  
“Hey,” Mike says as she’s taking a sip. She’s not exactly caught off guard; or rather she wouldn’t be under normal circumstances. These are definitely not normal circumstances.  
“Hey yourself,” she says, trying hard to come off nonchalant.  
His eyes travel from the top of her head to somewhere mid-waist, and it feels uncomfortable to be observed by him. Or maybe it’s too comfortable. She steps aside, letting other people through to the bar area.  
“It’s so weird seeing you here,” He says, following her to the corner of the room. “And yet not weird at all.”  
“Right,” Eleven says stiffly. “Well, we’ll be seeing a whole lot of each other in the coming months.”  
“Does that bother you?”  
She considers. “Not really, no. Does it bother you?”  
Mike shrugs. “I’m not the one who broke things off, El. It doesn’t bother me seeing you, but things are still fresh.”  
“So you’d rather I’m not here.” She states.  
He scratches the back of his head. Looks almost hurt. “No, that’s not what I said. I just meant that you blindsided me, and well, I’ve never been on my own like this.”  
Eleven frowns. This is not the place for this. Not the place to extrapolate reasons for their breakup or feelings, but she can’t help herself. “If you were blindsided by what happened, it’s because you weren’t listening.”  
Mike sighs. “Look I don’t want to argue and bring up the past again. I’m sorry.”  
Eleven straightens out, surprised at his maturity. “Yeah, we’re here for Max and Lucas anyway. Let’s just grin and bare through it.”  
“Way ahead of you,” he says, giving her his best fake smile. “In any case, we’re not going to cross paths as much as you think we are. You’re helping Max, I’m helping Lucas.”  
El can’t help but feel a tinge of disappointment. She hadn’t thought of it before, but Mike is right. After this, they’d only see each other at the rehearsal dinner and the wedding itself. Not as involved as she initially expected. That’s for the better, though.  
“Lucky us,” she says in response. He shrugs and slowly walks away, as though hoping she’d follow.


	4. Hyperemesis Gravidarum

Mike can’t help but feel angry. Angry with Eleven? Perhaps a little bit. But mostly angry with himself. What did he expect, waltzing up to her and telling her how sad and lonely he’s been? What a truly pathetic idiot. She acted more graciously than he deserved. 

But the truth still stings. He shouldn’t have been so blindsided by it all. There were signs – dissatisfaction on both sides. 

Mike remembers waking up next to her for the last time. It had been a few days since they’d lost the baby, and she’d lost the sparkle in her eyes. Lying there next to him, face somewhat sullen and breath coming in choppy, Mike wondered how they’d ever pull through. She had been cold to him since the night at the hospital – locked away in her office, only coming out to have a bite of food. She was working from home that week, still too physically ill to come to the office. But still working, still pushing herself like she always did.   
He walked around their apartment like a ghost. Many times he stood in front of the office door, moments away from knocking. But what was he going to say? What could he say to make it all go away? He’d made a fool of himself, and their loss lay squarely on his shoulders, despite what the doctors said. 

“I can manage things,” He told her that night. “You’re too sick to keep going into the office, and we don’t know if you’ll feel any better soon.”  
“I’ll feel better in the second trimester,” she said dismissively. “I can’t ask for time off right now. They’ll fire me.”  
“You’re being so selfish, El.” Mike said, rubbing his face with the palms of his hands. He’d had about enough of her reasoning. “Why can’t you just let me handle it? Why is your job more important than your health, than the baby?”  
Eleven’s face grew a few shades redder. “You know how hard and how long I worked for this. How can you ask me to give it all away and be some…some stupid housewife for you?”  
The words were spoken and the silence that followed was deafening. Mike knew that the journey to becoming an attorney was not an easy one for Eleven. He’d been there the whole way through. There were times when he wondered why she was so set on that career path. Wanted to crawl into her head and shuffle through her thoughts and feelings. Knowing someone for over a decade wasn’t always enough to know what drove them. Perhaps she was trying to prove that she was more than her powers, more than a vessel for the supernatural. Perhaps Hopper’s work holism gave her the wrong impression. 

But she was carrying their child now, and she was ill.   
“Hyperemesis Gravidarum” is what the doctor had called it. She’d been withering away in front of his eyes, and she refused to listen to reason.   
“I don’t want you to give up your career,” Mike said sternly, breaking the silence. “But I can’t watch you do this.”   
“Then don’t, Mike.” She yelled. “Do whatever you want. You’re the one who can do whatever.”   
“Don’t push me away,” he’d yelled back. “It’s not my fault you got pregnant.”   
And there it was. The crux of the issue. They were scared to say it out loud, but they both knew it was true. The pregnancy was unexpected, unwanted. A mistake, a skipped pill here and there thanks to Eleven’s busy schedule. 

It took two to make a child – she wasn’t solely at fault. They could have used other protection, but they didn’t. Mike shouldn’t have said what he said in that moment, but he did. 

The anger erupted out of her in a way Mike had rarely seen. She slammed all the doors in the apartment in unison. The noise was so gut-wrenchingly awful that Mike feared the doors were thrown off their hinges.   
She hadn’t used her powers to that capacity in a long time, and perhaps she couldn’t handle the intensity in her position. Eleven had collapsed to the floor. Her nose bled, her ears bled. Something else bled too. 

And now they are here. Pretending it’s all okay, walking around this mansion and exchanging pleasantries with people.   
“You look like a ghost,” Will says from behind him. “Something happened?”  
“Oh,” Mike says, blinking a few times to get himself out of his head. “No, I’m fine. Just looking around. This place is huge.”  
Will nods. “Not too shabby.”   
Everything seems to be working out just spiffily for his friends, and he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t even a little bit resentful. Mike wouldn’t be if his own life wasn’t a burning pile of garbage. But it is, and all the happiness and prosperity is like salt in his still all too fresh wounds. 

“Hey, give me a sec?” Mike says to Will, who nods in response. He walks towards the back of the mansion, through the kitchen and service area, where hors d'oeuvres are being placed on large platters, and servers wear white aprons over their black suits. The back exit is just to the left of the kitchen, and he tries the door, expecting it to be closed. But it opens wide, and he walks out into the nippy evening, taking a deep breath. Mike checks his phone again, scrolls through the wall of work email notifications. 

Send them my best wishes!

Nancy texted him over an hour ago. She couldn’t make it to the engagement party, and now it’s his job to congratulate the happy couple on her behalf. 

No other texts. Not sure what he expects, but it’s always a disappointment. 

Mike walks back into the main area, grabbing a few deep fried shrimp from one of the platters going around. Sees John looking particularly annoyed with his drink, and walks towards him. John is another accountant at “Fritz and Neil”, and over the past years, they’ve gotten somewhat friendly. Friendly enough that John got an invite to the engagement party even though his relationship with Lucas is not particularly stellar.   
“What’s got you so bothered?” Mike asks. “Drink not up to your standards?”  
John looks up and scowls. He’s older than Mike, by perhaps three or four years. He’s wearing a somewhat ill fitting suit, but his facial hair is carefully trimmed and it’s clear he put at least some work into his appearance today.   
“I asked for a gin and tonic.” John says. “But they gave me a vodka soda.”   
Mike laughs. “Go get another drink then. No point in staring at it like that.”  
John rolls his eyes. “As if I didn’t think of that myself, smart ass. Look at the queue.”   
The queue had definitely increased in the time that Mike spent embarrassing himself in front of El and sulking in the back. He didn’t even think that Lucas and Max knew this many people.   
“While I’ve got you here,” John says. “Would you be interested in a double date?”  
“A what?” Mike frowns.   
“I’m dating this girl. Really charming. Works in some office downtown. She was telling me about this friend who recently split with her long-term boyfriend. Reminded me of you, man.”   
“That’s nice,” Mike says.   
“I figured you’ve been so morose this whole time. You’re getting to be a real pain in the ass at work, constantly sulking. Maybe you’d be down to go out with her? I’ll bring my date, and you can meet this girl.”  
Mike laughs. “I don’t think I’m anywhere close to wanting to date anyone.”  
John rolls his eyes again. “Mike, don’t act dumb. You don’t have to date the girl. Maybe she’ll be a distraction for you. You know, grab a few drinks, take her back to your place. I’m sure she’s not ready to be serious with anyone either. You know, you’ll be helping her out too.”   
“This is some kind of serious bullshit, John.” Mike says.  
“Getting a rebound is not bullshit.” His co-worker replies. “You were with El for over a decade. It’s not going to be easy to get over it and you might as well have some fun in between.”  
Mike shakes his head. “I appreciate the thought. Really I do. But I can’t do that right now.”  
John shrugs. “Let me know if you change your mind. And trust me, I think you will.”   
“What’s that supposed to mean?”  
“You think she’s not out there experiencing whatever she was missing with you? Why’d you think she got all dressed up for today?”  
“Because it’s a formal event.” Mike says, looking down at his own outfit.   
“Yes, but she’s also out on the prowl, my man.” John says. “Just trust me. I’ve got more experience with these things than you.”   
It’s Mike’s turn to roll his eyes. He slaps John on the shoulder, and walks away. He’s never heard so much crap in his entire life.


	5. Bridal Salons and Interrogations

They approach the front entrance of “Ellorie’s Bridal Salon”; the doors fully glass, projecting a very minimalist aesthetic. Max is the first to walk through. Behind her, El, Jenna and Erica walk in like a row of ducks following their mother.   
“Welcome to Ellorie’s” the consultant says, gesturing them to continue walking through. She’s wearing a black high neck dress and some lovely black pointed toe heels. A fully black uniform – one Eleven can appreciate. The walls of the salon are covered with dresses in a variety of white shades. Champagne, blush, off-white, a shimmering grey. There’s sparkles, lace and tulle galore everywhere El looks.   
“You can sit down over here,” the consultant says, pointing to a large half-circle white couch. For being sat on my countless people, it’s surprisingly white and clean.   
“My name is Abigail, and I’ll be helping out our bride here, Max.” She beams. El wonders how difficult it is to put on that act every day. “Shall we start with a nice glass of champagne?”  
The champagne is a sparkling wine, but it’s pleasant nonetheless. They’re walking around the salon, looking at this dress and that dress. Erica, who has grown awfully close to Max at some point in the last decade, gushes about a white ball gown that would look just a little comical on Max.   
“I dunno Erica, it’s a little too much on her I think.”   
“Well why doesn’t she just try it?” Erica insists, carrying the large pile of tulle to the changing area.   
When Max tries the dresses on, she stands on a strange podium just a few inches off the floor. There are mirrors all around her, reflecting a few different sides. It looks like there are three red-haired girls in large white dresses, twirling and excited. 

Much to El’s surprise, Max chooses an empire waist dress with a beautiful crystal embedded belt to tie around her. It hits the floor and moves with her body in a sort of ethereal way. It’s beautiful in a way that El would never expect it to be. In some way, Max looks like a character out of a Jane Austen novel, effortlessly sophisticated. 

After the gown has been ordered, and all of the champagne has been consumed, the girls move into a local bistro restaurant. More drinks arrive to their table. El orders a Chicken Kiev dish, and takes a sip of her vodka soda.   
“You always go for such boring drinks, El.” Max says, picking up her gargantuan strawberry Bellini.   
El shrugs “I’d argue it’s classic.”   
Erica smirks, then clinks her glass with a fork. She gets up dramatically, the chair dragging on the floor uncomfortably to make space for her. “I want to make a toast.”   
Max smiles brightly, looking up at her future sister-in-law.   
“I cannot believe my stupid loser brother has taken over a decade to ask you to marry him.” Erica says, a little bit too loud for the quaintness of the restaurant. “It’s been so long that sometimes I forget that you’re not married yet. But I’m so happy that it finally happened and that you’re going to be my sister in law officially in just a few months!”   
“Hear hear!” Jenna says. They all drink.   
When their main courses arrive, Erica nudges El in the rib.   
“Did you get back with Mike yet?”   
The question causes El to nearly choke on her roasted potato. “What?”  
“What you heard,” Erica says. “Are you guys back together yet? I saw you two talking at the party.”   
“Oh,” Eleven says. “No, we’re not back together. We were just discussing…something.”  
“Right.” Erica says, rolling her eyes. “I don’t really get it. You guys have been dating longer than Lucas and Max. Whatever it is that you broke it off over is probably stupid. So just forget it and get back together.”   
Eleven frowns. “It’s not stupid.”  
“Max, tell El that it is stupid.”  
Max scowls. “Erica, leave El alone.”   
“I don’t ever remember hearing two people break it off after 10 years because they don’t get along.”   
Eleven shrugs as to say that she has nothing to add.   
“Did Mike cheat?” She pushes.   
Max shoots her a disapproving look, but Erica typically lacks friendly decorum and doesn’t feel particularly bad about it.   
“No, he didn’t cheat.” El says, irate.   
“Okay, so then did you cheat?”  
“What? No I did not cheat, Erica. What’s with the interrogation?” El blurts out. “This is getting ridiculous. We’re here to celebrate Max finding her wedding dress, not to figure out the true reason behind Mike and I breaking it off.”   
Erica smiles, victorious “So there is a true reason. Not the bullshit you told us. Good to know.” 

“Listen El, don’t take that stuff personally.” Max says when they’re in front of El’s apartment building. It’s a few hours later, but Eleven has yet to regain her composure after the incident. She likes Erica, she truly does, but the girl can definitely get under her skin. She can get under anyone’s skin when she’s trying to prove a point. But Eleven is not particularly interested in rehashing the conversation from earlier, and in any case, she has to get back to the office soon.   
“Erica just speaks her mind, and well, you know how that turns out.”  
“Unfortunately.”   
“Text me if anything.” Max says, pulling El in for a hug.   
“I’m just curious,” Eleven says when they pull away. “Does everyone doubt the reason Mike and I broke up?”  
Max sighs, looks uncomfortable. “Look El, I don’t want to pry. It’s not my relationship and if you don’t want to tell me, I accept it. I’m just worried. We’re all worried for you two.”  
“Worried about what?”  
“About what happened. Before the breakup. You were so distant. We didn’t speak for almost two months before it happened. You were overworking yourself and you looked sick. Lucas and I, well we were wondering if there was something you’re not telling us. Maybe something…supernatural.”   
The last word surprises Eleven. She hadn’t thought about supernatural things in quite a while now, what with real life bringing enough problems to the plate.  
“Oh,” she says. “Oh it’s nothing supernatural.”   
“Okay.” Max says, giving her a sad smile. “Tell me when you’re ready.”

Have they all been suspecting something else? Or has Mike told them what happened behind her back, even though it wasn’t for him to tell. Eleven feels sick to her stomach. Maybe she was foolish to think that saying they no longer got along would explain it all. The truth was exactly that, but also very different. They didn’t get along anymore. They fought and argued at every turn. But the arguing was a response to something much larger. 

Eleven had thought that they’d get over it together. It was just an obstacle on the way – she was confused, scared. Mike had been there for her every time she’d been scared before. Truly, he had saved her. Body and soul. For that she was endlessly grateful. Mike taught her what it is to be a person, what it is to be a girl. A girl in love, a girl hopeful and bright-eyed. A girl who saw her future, an endless future, only with him. 

He’d driven her to the hospital with such speed that the bright lights of the highway merged into one bright blur. She was bleeding, and it was all her fault. Perhaps that is why she was so angry with him. Not because he caused this, but because he thought he knew how to fix it. He wanted to fix it, and she just wanted to be rid of the problem altogether. 

Well, she’d succeeded at that. 

It was an early pregnancy and the doctor assured her that sometimes, miscarriages just happen. Not because of anything. But El was in good health and she’d have no problem trying again. They’d have no problem trying again. 

Tsunami levels of nausea hit her all at once. She threw up. Then she threw up again. She was dehydrated and taking the news badly. That’s what the doctor told Mike, who sat at the back of the room, watching her. 

It all felt like a sick joke. A sick joke she played on herself. This whole time she worried about her career. She’d wake up feeling light headed and nauseated, but she’d still force herself to go into the office. This whole time, Mike pushed and pushed and pushed her to give it all up. Eleven hadn’t thought, hadn’t really thought what it meant to be carrying a baby. A child. Mike’s child. Her child.

She didn’t think whether the baby would get her abilities. She didn’t think what it would look like if the baby did. She didn’t bother considering whether it was safe for her to use her powers while pregnant. She hadn’t thought about it. Period. This whole time, the baby was a problem. An obstacle to her career and life.   
And now the obstacle was eradicated. She’d made sure of that. And it felt like her whole life ended in that moment. Eleven supposed that she didn’t know what she had until she lost it. 

And Mike, sitting in front of the bed as the IV dripped fluids into her dehydrated body, was directly implicated. Perhaps he didn’t cause this to the same extent she did, but looking at him made her want to cry and cry and never stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for the lovely comments! The story is sad, but I promise the ending is happy :)


	6. Double Date

Mike’s body buzzes with nervous energy as he pulls out this navy sweater from the closet. It’s Will’s housewarming party, and it seems almost surreal that he’s finally moving out on his own. Will has been a momma’s boy for way too long, and Mike is happy to celebrate his final step into adulthood. He’s be lying though, if he said he wasn’t interested in seeing Eleven again. He’s decided that it’s truly pathetic to still care. It’s been months since they broke up, and every morning he still wakes up expecting to see her next to him. He wonders if El feels the same way, or if she has moved on. He remembers what John told him at the engagement party – that she’s on the prowl to find someone new. It seems almost insane to think that Eleven could be with anyone but him. They’ve been together since they were kids. She was his first love, his first kiss, his first everything. Perhaps this is the reason it’s so hard for him to let go. She’s in almost every memory he has. Eleven is an irrevocable part of him. 

He remembers the night she tugged on his shirt, her eyes sparkling in that mischievous way that drove him nuts. They’d been sitting on the basement couch of his childhood home. So much had changed by then in their lives, yet it was only a few years since Mike and his friends discovered Eleven in the woods. This was a very different Eleven. Older, more confident, more demanding. She bit her bottom lip, and it took every ounce of will power not to take her right there and then.  
“You sure?” He asked, tone serious. Mike didn’t want them to move too fast. Partly because he didn’t know whether she knew what she was doing. And partly because he didn’t want Hopper to murder him in cold blood.  
She nodded her lovely little head, hands working on unbuttoning his shirt. He wondered why she didn’t just do that with her powers, but maybe she liked the personal touch. They’d done some heavy petting by this point, but nothing below the belt and Mike wasn’t going to lie and say that he knew what to do. 

They finished the night in a weird haze. The experience wasn’t particularly romantic. Hell, all the lip biting had ended pretty early on into it. They were lying there, lazily embracing, their minds racing. It was strange knowing they’d “done it” now. If you could even count it as that. 

Will moved in a relatively small apartment on the fifth floor of an older building. The best a graphic artist salary could get him, but it was nothing to be ashamed of. Mike realizes as soon as he walks through the door that he is nowhere in the first ranks to make it there, so he places his bottle of red wine on the kitchen counter, and heads into the large studio space to try and find his friend.  
Will it chatting with a guy that Mike has never met, and though he’s not in any hurry to talk, Will makes eye contact with him and excuses himself from the other conversation.  
“Congratulations on the place,” Mike says, giving Will’s shoulder a firm squeeze.  
“Thanks,” Will says. “There’s some guac and chips on the table. And the alcohol is in the kitchen. Help yourself to whatever.”  
“Is everyone here already?” Mike asks, looking around the room. It’s not exactly spacious and he’s already noticed Lucas, Max and Erica in one corner of the room. Dustin too, chatting with Nancy.  
Will frowns, “If you’re asking about El, she wasn’t able to come today.”  
Mike rolls his eyes. “I didn’t mean her in particular.”  
“Well, I figured I’d just tell you. She got held up in the office tonight.”  
“Typical,” Mike says.  
Suddenly the party loses its entire draw, and he feels like the biggest asshole in the room for feeling like that. He should be excited and happy for Will, not like some pathetic child who got his toy taken away for bad behaviour. 

Maybe Eleven didn’t show up because she knew there weren’t going to be any dating prospects here. Maybe she was on a date, at this very moment, and not held up at the office. Chatting with some Joe Schmo about what she does for a living over a crappy beer or cocktail. 

Mike shakes his head. He’s truly lost it, that much is becoming clear. If Eleven is moving on with her life, that is her prerogative. She’s a beautiful woman who never lacked any male attention. And she deserves to experience all of that now that she’s gotten rid of his sad ass, hanging off her like a sack of rotting garbage. 

And maybe John is right. Maybe Mike is too uptight and focused on what no longer exists. That’s what he said right? Mike takes out his phone and texts. 

_I’m willing to give this double date a try. _

On the other side of the city, Eleven sits in her office, staring at her laptop screen. Once again she’s stuck here, working, when she could be enjoying herself at Will’s housewarming party. She wonders how many people came; whether Will feels finally happy to be out on his own and hosting his first ever party. El had planned out what she was going to wear. Her favourite pair of dark wash jeans and the ruffled white blouse she loves so much. She would have paired it with some beige suede booties and her going out blazer. It was a shame she’s stuck here – in slacks, her no-wrinkle white button down and the blazer that’s been hanging off the hook on the office door for a few days straight now. She wonders if Mike had made it to the party. If he wondered where she was. 

Back when the two of them were together still, Mike would come to pick her up after a long day of work. He’d be in his house clothes by then, hair dishevelled and looking its most sexy. He’d lean on the doorframe of her office and watch her as she typed the last few words for the night. Or printed out the last documents, stapling them all crookedly and throwing them on the desk in hopes that tomorrow morning she’d remember what they were. Then she’d give him a long kiss on the lips, relishing in it because it felt like she was already home.  
“Come on babe,” he’s say sometimes. Other times he’d just take her hand and pull her along, away from the office and the building. 

Just to make sure, Eleven looks at the doorframe. It’s just a doorframe. 

She walks to the car in the dark, feeling particularly annoyed with herself. She’s been letting her feelings get the best of her. Sure, everything is still fresh, even a few months out. It will take longer than that to undo over a decade of memories and feelings. El shouldn’t feel guilty for that. But she’s annoyed because her mind has been wandering. She’s been remembering all these moments, and the memories; the nostalgia of them all has made her feel heartbroken all over again. The wedding planning isn’t helping the matters much either. It’s some constant, sick reminder of what she’s missing. Or what she missed out on to be more exact. She could have been planning her own wedding. She would have been at the tail end of her pregnancy…

Whatever. 

Life goes on, right? Time heals all wounds. Isn’t that what older, smarter, more experienced people say? Maybe it was time to help time move faster. 

_Tell that guy that I’m interested in the double date._

She writes out those words and sends them to Lisa before she gives it more than one second’s worth of thought. Because if she did think, she wouldn’t send it. 

_Perfect timing._


	7. Next Time

Eleven feels strangely sad on her way to the sushi restaurant for the double date. Wrong. She knows nothing about the man she’s about to meet, which is both good and uncomfortable. If she’d known more about him, perhaps she wouldn’t want to meet him at all. Perhaps she’d compare him to Mike, and decide it wasn’t worth the hassle. But not knowing anything makes her feel hyper-vigilant. What if he’s a client, or someone she’s met before. El hasn’t been on a date in so long that she doesn’t even know how to act on one. She supposes that the first step is being friendly and fun, and to be fun she’d have to drink something. Precisely the reason why she’s in a taxi.  
The sushi restaurant is a relatively quaint little spot that she’s been to many times. She doesn’t know why she suggested it to Lisa when her assistant took on the task of arranging a place for them to meet. El has been here with Mike a few times, so maybe it wasn’t a good omen to come back alone. 

She arrives with 15 minutes to spare, which she banked on. The hostess brings her to a nice table set for four when she gives Lisa’s name for the reservation. The restaurant is not yet busy, but El knows it fills out quickly later on in the night. People tend to go out later these days, but she always preferred a quieter atmosphere. There are fewer distractions, and the service is typically faster. 

“Gosh I’m so excited for you to get out there and start dating again.” Lisa had said earlier that day. Eleven didn’t know whether it was okay to ask who her date was going to be, but when she did ask, Lisa admitted to knowing very little.  
“You know how men are! Never tell you anything unless you nag them.”  
Eleven didn’t know that men were like this. After all, she’d only been with one man her entire life, and he never withheld any information if it was prudent for her to know it. 

She orders a glass of white wine to start with, her eyes scanning the menu. El always orders a Green Dragon roll, but maybe she should be exciting and order something different this time? But the Greed Dragon roll is made quite well here, and they don’t skimp out on the avocado.  
“Eleven?”  
She snaps out of her thoughts about food and looks up. For a moment, she loses all sense of reality because if she were really in the sushi restaurant waiting for Lisa and her boyfriend and El’s date, then she wouldn’t be seeing Mike right in front of her eyes.  
“Mike?” She asks like she’s not really sure it’s him. But it definitely is him, looming tall over the table, hands in his pockets, wearing that polo shirt that they bought together on their trip New York City a few years back.  
“Hold on,” he says, looking around. “Did they bring me to the wrong table?”  
Eleven stares. “Are you here on a date?”  
He looks uncomfortable. “A double date.”  
Her stomach drops, because everything snaps into place. In an effort to get Eleven dating again, Lisa accidentally set her up with Mike? Or maybe it wasn’t an accident, but some kind of ruse or intervention.  
“Who invited you?” She asks.  
Mike scratches his head, looks around the restaurant as if trying to find an emergency exit.  
“John kept pushing me to go on this stupid double date because-”  
“The person he’s dating knows someone who just got out of a long-term relationship.” She finishes his sentence.  
Mike nods. “Is this some sort of a prank?”  
El slumps into her chair. The server comes by to ask Mike if he’d like a drink, and he orders a scotch just to get her to leave quicker. Mike doesn’t drink scotch, but maybe there are things about Mike that Eleven doesn’t know anymore. She didn’t really think he’d be the one to go out on a date so soon after the break up, though it would be hypocritical to feel sad about it. She’s here too after all, and maybe the universe brought them together in this uncomfortable way to show that they really do need to move forward with their lives. 

Out of the corner of her eye she sees Lisa approaching, and her facial expression is somewhat non-descript. Perhaps she’s wondering why they’re all here already with five minutes to spare, or maybe she doesn’t understand why Eleven’s date is standing up, and looks awfully like someone she knows. Now who could it be?  
“Mike Wheeler?” She says when she’s finally at the table. “What are you doing here?”  
Her eyes move from him to Eleven, as if asking for some clarification. But Eleven shrugs in response.  
“You’re dating John?” Mike asks her. She slowly nods in response.  
And speaking of the devil, John himself is escorted by the hostess to their table. She looks confused at seeing two people standing around, looking somewhat confrontational.  
“Whoa,” John says. “What’s El doing here?”  
John has never particularly liked El. He felt that there was something strange about her. Something bubbling beneath the surface, and now that she broke his friend’s heart, he was even less keen to see her.  
“She’s the date,” Lisa says, dumbstruck.  
“Are you telling me that we arranged a date for two people who have just broken up?” It sounds like a line from a sitcom, but the laugh track doesn’t follow. Instead there’s uncomfortable silence, and El feels more and more inclined to bid her adieu.  
“Not just broken up.” Eleven says. “It’s been months, so you really couldn’t have known.”  
It’s a bad excuse, because Lisa could have gone to the minimum effort to find out the date’s name. Had Eleven known it was a “Mike”, she wouldn’t have come. She wouldn’t be crazy enough to go from dating one Mike to another Mike, and then they would have avoided this whole disaster.  
“Well, I hope the three of you have a good time.” Mike says finally, pursing his lips. Hands in his pockets and with a nod of his head, he walks away briskly.  
El watches him walk through the front door. She too gets up to leave, but stops to get her wallet out. She places a few bills on the table – enough to cover her wine and Mike’s scotch.  
“See you on Monday,” she tells Lisa. Lisa only nods in response because really, what is there left to say? 

Lisa is a legal assistant, not some ditz. It takes a lot of brainpower to push this bad experience of Lisa’s doing to the back of her mind. There’s more to life than work and work impressions, she tells herself. She hopes the sentiment sticks. 

When she exits the restaurant, the rush of cool air feels good against her skin. It’s like she’s been suffocating in the restaurant this whole time, and she can breathe to her heart’s content again. She pulls her phone out of her purse. 

_I am so incredibly sorry for what happened tonight. I had no idea John even knew Mike… _

El sighs. She ignores the text from Lisa and opens up her taxi app.  
“Hey.”  
She looks up, surprised yet again at Mike’s presence. He’s been surprising her a lot lately, and it’s a strange, novel sensation.  
“I thought you left already.” She says, trying to sound unbothered.  
“I forgot to pay for my drink,” Mike says.  
“I took care of it,” El responds, eyes still on the app. She’s one click away from booking the drive home.  
“Oh…thanks” he says. There’s a pause. “Do you need a drive?”  
She shakes her head, finally clicks on the button to book the trip. “All good. I’m getting a taxi home.”  
He watches as she places the phone back into her purse. It’s getting really uncomfortable now, standing around as people walk by them.  
“Look El, I’m really sorry it ended up like this.”  
El sighs. “It’s honestly fine.”  
“I’m sure you were excited to finally get out there and start dating, so I’m sorry for ruining that for you.”  
She cocks an eyebrow, trying to determine whether he’s genuine or this is some sort of a jab. “You had nothing to do with this, Mike. You also came here with good intentions.”  
“This is so stupid,” he says, running a hand through his hair.  
She takes a deep breath, exhales dramatically. “It’s just as well that this happened. I don’t think I am ready to date yet. So there are no hard feelings.”  
“Right,” Mike says. “No hard feelings here either. I, well, John had been pressuring me to go and so I finally decided to humour him.”  
Eleven shrugs. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me. You can date when you want to, and who you want to.”  
Hearing him trying to justify things puts her in a sour mood. If he wanted to go on a date, he could do that. What’s it to her anyways? She’s the one who ended things, so she shouldn’t be the one feeling disappointed and upset at him moving on.  
“Hey El.” He says after a few moments. “Did you want to get a drink maybe? Or a coffee? Tonight?”  
Her heart skips a beat. Feels like a girl being asked out on a date by her crush. El is surprised by her own reaction, and a part of her wants to go. Truly wants to.  
“I figured I’d make it worth your trip to get out here.” He adds.  
It’s so crazy and sudden that she forgets all about her taxi. When the silver Toyota pulls up to the front of the restaurant, she has no choice. It has been made for her by the universe or the gods or whatever it is that rules this crazy world. She gives him one last look before she gets inside.  
“Sorry, Mike! Next time?”  
Next time they get accidentally set up for a double date?  
His face expression is hard to read.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of you guys called it ;)


	8. Bachelor Party

The evening couldn’t have gone worse. Mike walks into his apartment feeling the most defeated he’s ever felt in his adult life. What are Demogorgons and Mind Flayers compared to painful breakups and embarrassing yourself in front of your ex?

He throws himself onto the couch, staring at the blank screen of the television, which he hasn’t even bothered to turn on. Hot salty tears drip down his cheeks, one after the other in rapid succession. Mike hadn’t cried after the break up. Perhaps he’d been holding out hope this whole time that she’d reconsider and come back. That she’d text him, or come knocking on the door. And then everything would be okay again. But time had run out. Maybe he ruined it by signing up for the date. Maybe it was truly over now. 

The tears flow, and for the longest time they don’t seem ready to stop. For the first time in months, Mike allows himself to grieve. To feel the heartbreak, which like the worst form of cancer, had spread all over his body and mind. He’d just realized it too late. 

Lucas’ bachelor party falls on a Friday night, and they’ve all gathered at the “Venue”, a high-end club that is too pretentious for its own good. It’s trying to prove a point by having the least amount of décor possible. The DJ sits in a strange white cube at the front of the space, with much smaller cubes situated against the walls. The middle is a large dance floor – it’s black and as shiny as ice. Mike almost expects some ice-skaters to come out and perform. The music is a strange mix of techno and 80’s hits, which is nostalgic enough to be good.   
“As the best man, and the best choice for the position too may I add, I wanted to wish you a life time of happiness with Max. You’ve already spent nearly as much of your life with her, as you spent without her. Tonight is one of the days you’re spending without her, so live it up!”   
They all cheer and throw back their shots. This is one of many shots, because many more toasts come, from Mike, from Will and Dustin too. The dancers come out nearly an hour later. The space fills out substantially, and their podiums seem to hang off the ceiling in a few convenient places around the vast expanse of the club. They hold onto the poles tightly, since falling off is likely to result in fractures of all kinds.   
“Couldn’t you guys have just gotten me a regular stripper?” Lucas asks, drunk enough already that he’s sprawled on the rather uncomfortable couch. Strippers were never in consideration, so Will tells him that they wanted to have a fun night out. The four childhood friends rarely went out anymore. They still spent a lot of time together, but long over were the days of drinks after work, or weekend club sessions. Now it was either more elaborate plans, or simple hangouts at home with beers and a movie. 

Mike is undoubtedly drunk. He hasn’t been in a very long time, but he supposes that he’s letting loose today. It’s Lucas’ bachelor party, so it’s okay, right?  
The bar is crowded, but there are at least three bartenders, and despite having rather sour facial expressions, they are strangely efficient at throwing together cocktails and swiping credit cards.   
“I’ll get eight shots of tequila.” Mike says when one of the bartenders, a scrawny looking man, gives him the go-ahead. He nods in response, and sets out eight shot glasses.   
“You’re with the bachelor party, right?” someone says beside Mike, and he turns to look at the stranger. He immediately makes eye contact with her, her eyes so light blue they look like the sea, or the ocean, or whatever is blue. The sky?  
“Yeah,” He says finally, pointing to the general location of their table. “Just the four of us.”  
“That’s very sweet.” She says. “I’m here for a bachelorette party as well. My best friend is finally tying the knot after what, 7 years of dating?” She laughs.   
The bartender has finished pouring their tequilas and names a price that Mike doesn’t hear. He’s both drunk and distracted, so he swipes his card and pulls wooden tray they’re assembled on towards him.   
“Crazy,” he says in response. “My friends have been dating over a decade now.”  
“No way!” The girl exclaims. She adjusts a strand of dark hair behind her ear playfully. “I guess people date longer these days than ever before. My parents got married after knowing each other for a total of three months. Whatever happened to romance?”  
Mike considers. His parents got married soon after meeting, but that didn’t end in any sort of loving marriage. Then again, over a decade later in his own relationship, he was single and getting pathetically drunk at a pretentious club.   
“Don’t think too hard about it,” she says. Mike supposes he’s silent for too long, which is what prompted the comment. He smiles in an apologetic way, pulls the tray off the table in a way to say, “I’m going.”   
“Before you go,” she says playfully. “Can I use your phone?”  
Mike shrugs, pulls his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans and hands it over. She types something with a smile on her lips, then hands it back and leans in almost too close to say “Nice meeting you.”   
Mike watches her walk away, blending into the crowd around her. At the table, the four of them throw back the tequila.   
“What took so long?” Dustin asks. “We nearly sobered up here, waiting for you.”   
“I was just talking to someone.” Mike says.   
“Oh, talking to some girl?” His friend teases.   
Mike rolls his eyes, but pulls the phone out anyway. His phonebook has a new contact – “Elena.” He barely notices it however, because right underneath her is El. 

They were back in that empty house. She’d lost her powers then, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t worried about her. Mike had been dreading that day for weeks since he found out she’d be moving away. Will was moving too, and things were changing in ways he wasn’t ready for. She’d only been back a year, and he’d fallen for her so hard that even the thought of her leaving Hawkins was tearing him apart. She looked so beautiful then. Sad, but beautiful.   
“Mike.” She said, forcing him to turn around and face her again.   
“Yeah?”   
El hesitated. “Remember that day at the cabin? You were talking to Max.”  
He gulped, feeling cornered. He wanted her to know, but it was hard to say the words. What he felt was fear. “Uhm, I don’t think I follow.”   
She persisted. “You talked about your feelings. Your heart.”   
“Oh,” Mike exclaimed. “Oh yeah. That.” His heart was beating so fast he worried it was trying to escape through his throat. “That was so long ago.”   
El looked at him expectedly then. Perhaps she was disappointed that he couldn’t get the words out. He had a distinct feeling she already knew. “It was you know, just heat of the moment stuff. We were arguing and…I don’t really remember.”   
Her brown eyes bore into his, and he scratched the back of his head like he always did when he was trying to act unbothered. “What did I say exactly?”  
“Mike.” She said in a voice so small, it was almost a whisper. Eleven approached him slowly yet appeared in front of him in a split second. She smelled like strawberries and laundry detergent. Her eyes sparkled and lips pursed as she said the words.   
“I love you too.”   
Then her hand was on his cheek, and he was frozen. Unable to move or react because she’d told him that she loved him. She loved him too. And it was her lips against his, lips he missed and dreamed about and wanted to kiss for the rest of his life.   
And then she was gone. 

Phone still in hand, Mike opens El’s conversation. 

_Just come home and we’ll get through it. I promise._

That was his last attempt. He’d been waiting for her to come home since. Didn’t dare touch their apartment. Didn’t change anything in his life because he still believed. Just like then, when he was still a kid, sitting in that fort in the basement, calling her every day for 353 days. 

_I’m still in love with you, El. I’m so sorry._

He sends the text before he changes his mind. The words are true. They were always true. Mike was deeply, irrevocably in love with her. In all honesty, Mike didn’t remember a time when he wasn’t in love with Eleven. When he didn’t want to spend every day with her. He’d screwed everything up, he realizes now, not because the baby was unwanted by him, but because he feared it was unwanted by her. He wanted the baby. He wanted Eleven. All along, he wanted.


	9. Bachelorette Party

Eleven wakes up at the crack of dawn, feeling worse for wear. She’d had a nightmare again, and waking up in an empty bed isn’t making her feel better. But she’s got to get dressed and head out to the office early. Tonight is Max’s bachelorette party, so the sooner she gets through her paperwork, the better it is for everyone involved. She makes her bed haphazardly, takes her phone off the charger. Checks it. There are a few emails, a text from Hopper. A missed call from an unknown number. 

_I’m still in love with you. I’m so sorry._

She doesn’t even need to check who the sender is for her hands to get clammy and for her head to spin. It’s as though she’d been punched, punched in the chest hard enough that she can’t catch her breath. Eleven stares at the screen; the words blur more and more as the tears obstruct her view, dripping one by one onto the screen. She can’t quite verbalize it, can’t put the feelings and thoughts together in her head. They’re not angry tears, or sad tears. Tears of relief, she supposes. 

He still loves her. God, he still loves her. Why?

The internal touchscreen mechanism struggles with the tears on its surface as she types the words, fingers trembling. 

_ I’m still in love with you too. _

One tap away from sending the text, her finger hanging above that dreaded button. She never really fell out of love with him. Doesn’t think it’s possible, anyway. Thinking about him makes her heart race. His dark expressive eyes. The way he scrunches up his nose when he’s confused or irritated. How loyal he is; the way he loves his friends. 

Waking up is her favourite part of the day, because in those few moments before full consciousness she is happy. She is with him. She isn’t grieving. Her least favourite part of the day is when the reality hits. 

Losing the baby changed her. It broke her in a way she never knew she could break. 

It was one of those days where everything had gone wrong. She’d gotten a passive aggressive email from one of the partners, and she’d been throwing up for nearly two days. El had convinced herself it was the stress. Maybe the flu from two weeks ago was making reappearance. Never mind that she was at least a week late. And there she was, standing in the stall of her office washroom, holding the pregnancy test with a shaky hand. She’d shelled out 20 bucks for the digital kind. No uncertainties here. 

_ Pregnant. _

Black against grey. One word; eight letters. The box has been opened, and the cat was dead all along. 

Before the fear, the anger and the injustice of it all overwhelmed her senses, there was calm. Eleven was happy. Warmth spread through her body as though she descended into a deliciously hot bath, where the worries melted away and she felt a need and a passion for life. She’d have a baby. A lovely baby with Mike’s wild unruly hair and her chocolate brown eyes. Or maybe her button nose and his lanky build. She caught herself smiling. 

A call comes through from Max, and brings her back to reality. A reality where she is no longer having Mike’s baby. A reality where she grieved for something she herself destroyed.   
“Hey El,” Max said, her voice strangely off. “Would you be able to come over a bit before we head to the venue?”  
Eleven furrows her brow. She planned on finishing a few things before the weekend.   
“What’s wrong?”  
Max is quick to reply. “Oh nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to run a few things by you, if you could make it.”  
“Of course,” El says, not really believing her friend. “I’ll be there in a bit.”  
The work will have to wait. Her friend is more important than the clients that get themselves into their own predicaments anyways. Plus, Max rarely asks for favours, so this must be something important. Eleven packs the evening outfit into her tote bag, along with some makeup and a pair of strappy pink heels. 

“You’ve got to tell me what’s wrong!” El says almost as soon as her friend welcomes her inside. Max and Lucas live in a lovely two-bedroom apartment in a high rise. 17th floor, and a lovely view of the city.   
Max sits on the edge of the white couch. “I don’t really know what to do, El.”  
“About what?”  
“The wedding.”  
Eleven winces. “You’re not thinking about calling it off, are you?”  
Max lets out a strange laugh. “Oh no, I would never.”  
It doesn’t sound convincing and El’s mind races to figure out the crux of the issue here. Did Lucas cheat? Did Max fall out of love with him? Was there a huge problem with the planning? Was Max going to demote her from the role of Main of Honour?  
“El, I’m pregnant.”  
The pause is long.  
“You’re what?”  
“I know.” Max says, getting off the couch and pacing to the window. “I found out a few hours ago.”   
“How did this happen?” Eleven says, battling between her feelings of shock and hurt. Maybe jealousy.   
“I don’t know,” Max says. “I was late and took the test and well, there it is. Positive tests are rarely wrong.”   
Elven can barely speak. The engagement was a surprise, but not really a shock. This is a shock and somehow it’s hard to keep herself together.   
“Are you going to keep it?”  
Max blinks. “Of course I’m going to keep it. Oh El, I’m so happy.”   
“You are?”  
“I mean, I’m not happy it’s happening now. I’m worried. I’ll be pregnant pregnant at the wedding. You know what I mean? Like, huge!” She motions to her belly.   
“You won’t be huge, Max. You’ll barely show.”   
The redhead sits on the couch again. “Is it crazy that I’m happy? That I’m excited?”  
She looks so earnest, eyes searching for the excitement in Eleven’s eyes. She told her as soon as she could, that much is obvious. And Eleven never allowed her the same courtesy.   
“It’s not crazy, Max.” She says. “It’s the most wonderful thing in the world.”  
“You think?”  
“I’m so happy for you.” She is happy. Truly, irrevocably happy. But the tears that fill her eyes aren’t happy tears. El wipes them away.   
“It’s a good thing I bought an empire wasted dress!” Max says, her disposition calmer now. “Too bad I won’t be able to drink at my own bachelorette party though!”   
Eleven smiles, but the vibrations of her phone distract her. She gives her friend a tight-lipped smile, and walks out to the kitchen. It’s Jasmine, one of the firm’s partners. One of her bosses.   
“Hey,” Jasmine says. “Are you on your way?”  
“Oh,” Eleven says, feeling immediately panicked. She didn’t tell anyone she wouldn’t be coming in today, and her instinct is to say “Yes” and catch a taxi to the office. The bachelorette party isn’t for a few hours anyways. Max wouldn’t mind, would she?  
“Listen, the defendant’s counsel is driving me absolutely insane. Did you know she didn’t serve the affidavit yet? Would you be able to-”  
“I’m so sorry,” El says, interrupting. “I’ve had a bit of an emergency today. It’s health-related. I’m not feeling well. I’ll look into it first thing on Monday.”  
There is a pause of disbelief. Her own disbelief at telling her boss a lie. Jasmine’s disbelief at El refusing to come in.   
“Is it something serious?” Jasmine asks, her voice strained.   
“Yes,” Eleven says, earnestly. “I’m sorry for it being last minute.”  
“Okay,” her boss says. “I’ll have Louise look into it with me.”   
“Thank you.”   
She hangs up, shivering from the adrenalin rush. She wouldn’t be fired for taking a sick day, but who knows how everyone will take it in the office. Being here though, with Max on this day, is more important than yet another issue with a client or their counsel. If there was ever a lesson to learn, this was it. 

She walks back to the living room, taking a deep breath.   
“Do you have to go?” Max asks, disappointment seeping out of each word. Eleven shakes her head.   
“Max, I have to tell you something.” Her voice is graver than she meant it to be, and the redhead leans in to listen. She’s seems confused by the sudden change in tone.   
“Remember the day we went shopping for your dress? Afterwards, when we walked home, you said you were worried about me. About the breakup.”   
Max nods. “Yeah I remember that day.”  
“Well, I think I’m ready to tell.”  
“I’m ready to listen.”

It happened a few days after they lost the baby. She’d locked herself in the office, working and trying to keep her mind off the fact that she wanted to crawl up into a dark dark space and die. Perhaps it was a very extreme reaction to what happened, but she felt utterly alone. She wasn’t alone. Mike spent the week at home, cooking her meals and making her tea. He tiptoed around her as though she was a bomb one wrong step away from blowing up. And in retrospect, Eleven supposes that she was like a bomb, ticking and ticking and distracting herself from the inevitable. What happened changed her irreversibly. She was a mother, and yet not quite a mother. A girlfriend, and yet no able to fulfil that role. An attorney, but just barely. A girl with supernatural powers she no longer used for anything more sophisticated than to change the TV channels. 

Somewhere along the way, she’d lost herself. She worked so hard on her career that she lost something so much more valuable. And it killed her that she didn’t know it at the time. 

“I think I need to go,” she told Mike on that fateful Saturday morning. He stood there in his grey robe, circles under his eyes and hair still wet from the shower. He seemed so small for his height, so vulnerable.   
“Go where?” He asked.   
“Anywhere else.” She said simply. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”  
“It’s not going to be any easier on your own.” Mike said. It’s as though he expected her to do it. “We can work through it. I promise. I’m here for you as I’ve always been here for you.”   
Tears filled her eyes. She knew he meant it when he said it. But this wasn’t for them to work through. They’d made a mess of it. It didn’t matter much how the blame was to be divided.   
“I’m sorry.” Eleven said. She wished he’d let her go without a fight, but she loved him because he never did leave anything without a fight.   
“El, you don’t have to do this.” Mike said. “Please don’t do this. Please.”   
But she left. Not because she didn’t love him. Not because she blamed him. But because it was too difficult to see him, to look at him. His presence was a constant reminder of what she lost. What they lost. It was easier to keep her head down and work. 

But maybe, just maybe it wasn’t really easier. Work was a distraction, a way to forget, sure. But work was also what caused it. It wasn’t fair to choose. But she had a choice, and she chose wrong.


	10. Rehearsal Dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting this chapter a few hours earlier. I split up the last chapter into two because it was too long upon second read, so there will be 12 chapters instead of the 11 previously planned. I hope everyone is still enjoying the story and not wanting to kill Eleven too much. Fluff may be good for the soul, but angst is fun for the heart ;)

Mike has made a fool of himself countless times in his life. He has walked into the wrong conference room, interrupting a presentation. He has consumed an entire glass of pickle juice as a dare. Fell out of a taxi after a night out drinking. Most recently, he sent his ex-girlfriend an “I love you” text that was seen and never replied to. The lack of response was incidentally a response. It meant, “I don’t love you”, “leave me alone”, and “stop texting me, you freak”. It’s not that he misjudged the situation or misread the signs. He knew the chances were slim. He took his chances anyways. And now he had to live with those chances. Tonight was Max and Lucas’ rehearsal dinner, and it was the penultimate time that he would see Eleven in their roles as Maid of Honour and Best Man. 

It’s one of those restaurants that print menus on recycled paper. The décor consists of filament bulbs hanging just above their heads, long wooden tables with purposeful chips and cracks and vases of white roses that look almost out of place. Max’s own touch. 

Currently, they are halfway through the parent speeches, and Mike is not paying any attention. He’s trying to not let his eyes and mind wander over to Eleven, who sits on the other side of the couple table, along with the rest of the bridesmaids. Her hair is in a low bun, lips a muted pink colour, eyelashes dark against her skin. If Mike strains his neck any further than that, he’ll have to take a trip to the ER.  
Everyone claps, and he joins in. There go all the speeches. Takes a sip of water before stabbing a few leaves of salad off his plate.  
“Hi everyone,” Eleven says, gracefully rising from her seat. “I also wanted to say a few words about this wonderful couple.”  
Never mind about the salad.  
“I’ve known these two individuals for many many years. We were children then, dealing with things that no children should deal with. We grew together, we fought for the world and we succeeded to find a place in it. Lucas and Max have always been the most wholesome couple. They were cute at 15, they’re cute at 27 and they will be cute in every stage of their life. Cheers to the amazing couple!”  
Mike takes a sip of his champagne, taking his eyes off Eleven when she finally sits back down at the table. He hadn’t planned on making a speech, but since the Maid of Honour did one, it’s only fair that he should say a couple of words too. It’s definitely not an attempt to bring attention to himself.  
All eyes are on him when he rises up from his chair. Less gracefully than Eleven did before him. He looks at Lucas, who furrows his brow. Maybe worried that Mike will say something stupid, but he doesn’t object anyway.  
“Before this food gets too cold,” Mike says, pointing to the salad. Only the appetisers have been served so far, so this gains him a few chucks from the crowd. “I too wanted to congratulate my best friends Lucas and Max on finally taking the plunge and tying the knot. No two people are as compatible as these two. It has been an honour to act as Lucas’ Best Man, and for all my work and effort, and for this hilarious speech, I’m expecting their first born to be named after me as a form of gratitude.”  
Laughter and applause erupt, and it makes Mike feel rather good. Was this the best speech he could have come up with? Certainly not. But it was thought of on the spot, and if it made people laugh, he couldn’t complain. He stuffs his mouth with a few salad leaves when Max gets up from her seat as well. He looks up in confusion. Surely the bride and groom don’t do speeches at their own rehearsal dinners.  
“Thank you everyone for coming and I cannot wait to see you all tomorrow at the main event. Thank you to the parents for such wonderful speeches, and to the Maid of Honour and the Best Man. Sorry to disappoint you Mike, but we already came up with a name for this baby! Maybe our second?” She points to her belly, which before this moment looked just as ordinary as it had for many years.  
The confusion and silence in the room only lasts a second, but it feels like forever. “Yes, that does mean that Lucas and I are expecting!”  
Max’s mother runs up from her table to embrace her daughter. Family and friends cheer and everything becomes so grey again. So bleak. 

He has to get some fresh air. He shouldn’t be reacting this way. Excusing himself from the table and speed walking to the doorway makes him look like a lunatic. He’ll come up with an excuse later. Something about work. No, Lucas will know. Maybe something about the apartment. Mike inhales the cold air, and lets himself go. But it’s not really letting yourself go when you’re not in control of your emotions anymore. The tears come, there’s not enough air in his lungs. Never enough air. 

She wore her red pyjamas, the worn out ones that were soft and comfortable and felt like butter on the skin. Her face was sallow and tired, but she looked beautiful.  
“You should try to sleep now,” he said, lying next to her in bed. She smiled at him, her dimples still prominent and so irresistible.  
“Have you felt the baby kick?” He asked, and the smile went away.  
“It’s too early for all of that. The baby is like the size of a grape or something.”  
“Seriously?” He asked. “No wait, I want to make sure.” He propped himself up over her belly, pulling down the waistband of her pyjama bottoms to reveal the smooth planes of her stomach. If anything, it looked more concave then ever before, but he placed his ear against it anyways, trying to listen.  
She laughed, playing with his hair. “Baby, whatever you hear is probably just dinner.”

“Mike?” Eleven says, pulling him out of the memory. The real Eleven. The one in the present. He looks at her, but doesn’t know what to say. It must look so pathetic to her, seeing him crying at their best friends’ rehearsal dinner. She places a hand on his shoulder.  
“I’m really sorry.” She says, panicked. “I didn’t know she’d announce it today. She only told me a while ago.”  
He looks into her eyes. “You knew?”  
She nods. “Max told me in confidence before the bachelorette party.”  
She holds his gaze a few moments. Her eyes are sad.  
Mike looks down again. “I should be happy for them, right?”  
“You are happy for them. And I am happy for them. It’s just hard to feel that when you’re sad for yourself. ”  
Mike huffs. “Are you telling me you’re over it now?”  
“No,” she says, looking away. “I’m not. I don’t know when I’ll be over it.” She pauses before speaking again. “I just feel so lost.”  
He picks at the hem of his sweater. “I really wanted that baby. From the moment you told me, I wanted it so much.”  
She doesn’t say anything.  
“And I wanted you more than anything. I still do.”  
He looks up at her. There are tears in her eyes now too. He watches as they roll down her face, one by one. She doesn’t even bother wiping them.  
“I’m so sorry,” she says. “Mike, I’m so sorry for everything.”  
But she doesn’t tell him that she wants him too. Maybe he deserves that. Maybe after all these years of wanting it, the universe has finally told him “no”. Stupid people have to learn somehow, too.  
“God, I’m such an idiot.” Mike says finally. “You must think I’m the most pathetic guy in the-”  
Her lips are on his, and the world around them fades into nothingness in a split second. They’re the only two people in existence, her hand on the back of his neck. His own hands finding her waist and pulling her closer. She fits there perfectly, as though that empty space was made for her, moulded by her. She tastes like champagne and tears, and though he knows in just a moment she’ll pull away, he wishes he could feel her lips against his forever. Wishes they could be in this moment forever. Doesn’t dare to wonder what it all means, lest it all go away.  
“I’m still in love with you too, Mike.” Eleven says as she pulls away. She doesn’t make eye contact, as though she’s nervous to admit it. He kisses her again.


	11. Conversations

They go back to the rehearsal dinner, take their respective seats. Even two people apart feels miserable after what they’ve shared.

Max gives her a tight smile.   
“Is everything okay?” She mouths, gesturing to Mike on the other side.   
Eleven takes a deep breath and nods. “Fine.”

After the rehearsal dinner, she watches as Mike earnestly apologizes for his earlier exit.   
She hadn’t told him that Max knows the truth now. About the pregnancy and about the split. There hadn’t been enough time earlier.

Eleven stands around, pretending to be interested in this and that. Exchanging words with Mrs. Sinclair and Erica.   
Trying to keep herself distracted enough so that when Mike was ready to leave she’d-

She doesn’t know what the plan is, or if there is a plan. It certainly doesn’t seem right to go home together, wherever home is now.   
Exchanging “I love yous” or “I still love yous” didn’t necessarily mean they were back together.   
Maybe Mike never wanted to get back together. Maybe he just needed closure, and he got it.   
But he did say he wanted her back. Did he mean it?

Eleven frowns. She is majorly overthinking everything, and that is usually his forte, not hers.

“Hey,” Max says, coming out of nowhere and whisking her away to the side. She takes a deep breath.   
“You didn’t tell Mike about the pregnancy?” Her tone is strained, impatient. Accusatory.

Eleven furrows her brows, unsure of how to respond. “No, I didn’t know I could.”

“Fuck, El.” It feels as though Max already knows the answer, but she’s testing her friend.   
El stares, doesn’t know how to respond, so she just watches Max’s face grow redder. This isn’t hard for someone so fair-skinned.  
  
“God Eleven, you can be so selfish sometimes.”

El recoils. She doesn’t think not telling Mike about Max’s pregnancy is selfish. It wasn’t her news to tell, and anyways, she didn’t really talk with Mike much anymore.

“I thought it was a secret. I didn’t know I could tell him.”   
  
Max exhales, considering. “I know you didn’t want to, and I know you didn’t know. I know. I’m sorry.”   
The redhead stands there, runs a hand through her hair.   
“God this is such a mess. I announced the pregnancy publicly because I thought he brought up the baby in the speech because he already knew.   
He looked white as a sheet. You know this hurts him just as much as you.”

El rubs her eyes. The mascara must be good because it leaves no residue on her palms. “I just-”

“I feel like such an asshole.” Max says, interrupting. “It’s so painful seeing you guys this way. It breaks my heart. I want my friends back.”

“Max, I don’t know what to do.” Eleven says earnestly. “Everything is so wrong.”

“Look El, it’s not your fault what happened. But maybe you should re-evaluate your life.   
You’ve let so many friendships die out because you’re always at work. You broke Mike’s heart instead of working through your issues,   
only because you wanted to be rid of the distraction. Just so you could spend more time at work and not think about it.”

El frowns. “I think about it all the time. And my heart is broken too.”   
She pauses. “Besides I can’t just quit my job after years and years of working my way here.”

Max sighs. “Mike wants to make it work, though. He wants you back. And you’re stubbornly refusing. Why?”

El doesn’t like the accusation. “How do you know that he wants me back? I’m not refusing it because I don’t love him.   
I’m just hurting. God Max, I shared what I did with you because I thought you’d understand. Do you really think that I don’t blame myself?   
That I don’t go to bed every night hating myself for what I’ve become?”

The redhead is stunned enough at Eleven’s retort that she takes a step back. Sighs.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want it to sound like I’m blaming you.”

“You’re not doing a very good job of that, Max.” El says. “I blame myself all the time. For everything. I lost my baby, for fucks sake.   
And it was my fault. And I know I should have pushed through and not ended things with Mike.   
But I couldn’t exist in the same space at the time, knowing that I let him down too.”

“Look,” Max says, all the accusation and anger gone from her voice. “Maybe you’re just spreading yourself too thin.   
There must be jobs in the legal field where you’re not alienating yourself from everyone and everything in your life?”

Eleven sighs. There are many things she could do with her degree. She could work for a smaller firm, she could do consulting. She’s pushed herself to do this because she wanted to prove to herself that she wasn’t dumber than everyone else. That she could. But maybe she really couldn’t and maybe she really can’t. Not because she isn’t intellectually able. But because it’s ruining everything else in her life that she cares for.

“Just think about it.” Max says. “I just can’t stand back and watch my best friend become a hollow shell of a human being.   
Not when I know what you’re capable of.”

“It’s tough to just quit something you’ve wanted to do for so long.” El says.

“I know it is, but you don’t have to quit. You just have to create boundaries. Re-evaluate your priorities.” Max says. “Think about it, you don’t call Hopper anymore. You never see Will or Dustin. You’re the girl that saved the world. But you’re 13 anymore El. You don’t have to save the world. You just have to save yourself before it’s too late.”

The speech is finished, and Max shakes her hair out as though that will fix the tears in her eyes, or the fact that her face is now at least 5 shades redder than the rest of her body. It’s hard to find what to say in response. Does Max even expect her to say anything?

“Thanks for coming out tonight.” Max says finally. “Don’t be late tomorrow okay? The hair and makeup people are only here for 2 hours and we want to make sure everyone is done.”

“I promise I won’t let you down.” Eleven says, and Max seems satisfied.

The response has two meanings.

Shell-shocked, Eleven follows Max back into the foyer, standing close to the large entranceway, enjoying the cool breeze. Around her, people chat merrily, unaware. When did she become a workaholic? The girl who is never around. Not around for her dad, not around for her friends, not around for Mike. She’s always been different, and not always because she wanted to be. All her attempts for being like everyone else have backfired. It is irony at its best.

Eleven watches him approach her, having done the rounds. He looks apprehensive, like he’s about to give her some bad news. Maybe he thought about it and changed his mind. Finally realized that he’s too good for. He’s always been out of her league.

“Hey,” Mike says, hands in his pockets. “Are you leaving?”

“Oh,” Eleven says, looking back at the entranceway as though she wasn’t aware she was in front of it. She considers for a moment. “Do you want to grab a drink? Or a coffee?”

Mike nods. “Yeah. A drink.”

They decide on the first bar they find on the way. It’s weird being in his car again, watching him from the side. He’s always been so good at parallel parking, confidently pulling the car in. They’re dressed for a fancy dinner, and the bar is definitely not that kind of establishment. But it doesn’t matter, because they’re not there to impress anyone.

“What can I get you?” the server says, giving them a one over.

“I’ll have a whiskey sour.” Mike says.

Eleven eyes their cocktail menu. “I’d like to try the Elderberry Bramble. Is it good?”

The server nods. “Yeah it’s a popular drink. Very fragrant.”

“Okay!” She says with a smile.

“Elderberry Bramble?” Mike says in a teasing tone.

“I’m branching out.”

The drink tastes like a combination of cough syrup and straight up gin, but she swallows it because she is suddenly very aware of what they’re here to talk about.

“I wanted to tell you something,” El says finally. “I know it doesn’t change anything between us. But, well, I’ve decided I’m going to quit my job.”

Mike frowns. “Why?”

“Because I’ve been working too long and too hard, and at the end of the day, I couldn’t choose the baby before the work.”

He sighs, takes a sip of his drink. She wasn’t expecting him to jump up in joy but she expected a little bit more enthusiasm than he’s giving her.

“You’re right,” he says. “It doesn’t change anything.”

She is too stunned to speak.

“I don’t want you to quit your job because you think it’ll suddenly fix everything that happened.   
It’s not the job that’s the problem, El. I was so hell bent on getting back together that I think I forgot what got us here in the first place.   
We just didn’t talk anymore. We didn’t tell each other things. It felt like we didn’t even have the same values anymore.”

Eleven holds back the tears. “I’m so sorry Mike. For how I’ve treated you. I’m so so sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.” He says. “We’re both responsible. I just don’t want to play cat and mouse anymore.   
I don’t want to go to bed wondering about what you’re thinking. You don’t have to quit your job or do some other huge gesture.   
I just want to be together again, like we used to be. I want to know that we’re working towards the same goal.   
I’ve always supported your career because I knew how important it was for you to prove to yourself that you can do it.   
But it felt like once you got what you wanted, you didn’t really care about me anymore.”

“I let myself get caught up in things that didn’t matter.” She says. “I care about you. So much.   
But when I got pregnant, it was too difficult to make the right choice. And I chose wrong. And I implicated you in that choice too.”

“No, El I know how much your work matters to you.” Mike says. “I know that because I love you and I’ve seen how you struggled to get where you are.   
I think maybe we never truly learned how to deal with internal obstacles.”

She nods. Sometimes the hardest monsters to fight are the ones that grow inside us, that we nurture and feed. The parasitic monsters that eventually take over our lives, that thrive on our failure, that alienate us from our families and friends and loved ones. The monsters that only we can kill ourselves. Not with super powers, but with resolve and determination. Maybe she let her monster take over, let it sit in the control room for too long.

“Mike, do you think we’ll ever get back to how things were?”

He reaches out to touch her hand. It’s comforting and intimate and makes her feel warm.

“I don’t think we can go back.” Mike says, simply. “You can’t really undo the pregnancy and the loss and all of that. I don’t want to undo it either way. I was so happy about the baby, and well, I don’t want to forget those moments.”

She stars at her Elderberry Bramble. “I’ve really screwed everything up, haven’t I? I waited too long, and pushed you away too far.”

He sighs. “You have to stop blaming yourself like that, El. I’m not going to sit there and pretend that I enjoyed any part of this.   
I don’t like that you quit on our relationship like that. That you walked away from responsibility. But I get it.   
I always knew some things would be more difficult for you. It never stopped me loving you.”

“I don’t want to be different though.” El says. “I don’t want my childhood to be used as some mitigating factor in my screw ups.”

“El, you’re an attorney.” Mike laughs. “You deal with mitigating factors all the time. Why can’t you hold yourself to the same standard as you hold other people?”

She laughs in return, a desperate laugh that escapes her throat in that coarse kind of unexpected way.

“My offer still stands.” Mike says after a pause. “I meant it when I said I wanted you more than anything.”

She looks into his eyes, familiar and warm. She missed being able to look into them so earnestly and vulnerably. Smiles.

“No matter what happens El, if you want me, if you need me, I’m yours.”


	12. The End

When she sleeps that night, she dreams. A strange dream, not based in reality, but a concoction of the day’s events. They’re at a wedding. Their wedding. She wears an impressively large ball gown. The smell of flowers is everywhere. It’s almost sickly sweet. And there he is. Tall, dark and handsome. And she’s happy. She’s so happy.

Eleven wakes up with a smile on her face. The weekend is hers, with no office or work and for the first time in a long time, she doesn’t feel guilty. Doesn’t feel obligated to check her emails or missed calls. It’s still dark outside, being only 5 in the morning. She’s got to rush to Max’s house for all the wedding preparations. Get her hair done, get her makeup done. Pulls out the bridesmaid dress and heels from the back of her closet.

They’re staying in the Edwardian mansion that will host the ceremony and the reception. The room Mike gets has two single beds, so he throws his suit and shoes on one of them, and falls onto the other the way he always does on freshly made hotel beds, arms outstretched. It always got a laugh out of Eleven. 

They all meet in the hall behind the large ceremony space. The wedding arch has been decorated with thousands of flowers, white and pink and green. There are silk ribbons on all the guest chairs, and the guests have all mostly taken their seats now. A few still chat here and there, so when the minister makes the announcement that it’s almost time, everyone seems to feel the rush. The bridesmaids are the last to make it to the hall. They come out just as Mike gives Lucas the final pep talk. His friend and the groom of this wedding is anxious enough that there’s sweat above his lip.

“What are you even worried about?” Mike says. “Max isn’t going to be a runaway bride.”

Lucas laughs nervously. “When you’re in my shoes, I’ll ask you the same question.”

He stands in front of the entrance, and the groomsmen and bridesmaids pair off to enter after him. That’s when he finally sees Eleven, approaching him in her sea foam green chiffon dress. It’s fitted at the top, perfectly hugging her torso. The skirt flares out just a touch when she walks.

“Hey,” he says, breathlessly. Her hair is neatly curled and pinned back, and she’s wearing a pair of pearl earrings. A birthday present from him years ago. Did she wear them on purpose?

She looks at him, and then frowns. “Your bowtie is crooked.”

That brings him out of his intense admiration of her, but when she straightens it out for him, standing so close, he can almost feel the heat radiating from her body. Eleven lets her hand run down his chest lightly when she’s finished. It’s done on purpose, to make him yearn for her even more. Mike’s heart beats so fast he wonders if it’s visible through his suit. He wants so badly to kiss her, to run his hands down her back, to hold her close.

“Shall we?” She says, sliding her hand into the crook of his arm. They wait their turn to walk down, then separate to stand on their respective sides. Mike next to his ever nervous best friend, and Eleven next to the empty spot that is about to be filled by the bride.

Max looks like a vision in her beautiful empire wasted gown and cathedral length veil. She smiles coyly, eyes only for Lucas. Her red hair hangs around her shoulders in luscious waves, lacking by any sort of over-the-top styling.

When they say their vows, it’s impossible for Eleven not to shed a tear.

“Lucas, you are my safe haven. The place I want to come home to every day, no matter how happy or sad. You’re my heart, and my home.”

“Max, when I first met you, I was shocked and impressed by how unapologetically yourself you were. You never succumbed, never pretended. Every day I am shocked and impressed by your intelligence, your beauty and your incredible strength.”

They all blow bubbles at their exit. They take bridal photos. They eat filet mignon and blackened cod, and before the cake is served, Eleven tugs on Mike’s shirt.

“Can we talk?” she says when he turns to look at her. They slip out of the large space and into the living quarters of the mansion. She didn’t plan on going that far, but there are people standing around in the hall and for what she wants to do, she doesn’t need an audience.

Mike looks concerned when they stop in the hallway. It’s long and leads to many doors, which lead to many rooms. One of them is hers, and one of them is his. But that’s irrelevant right now.

“Is everything okay?” He asks, looking into her eyes with apprehension. She places her hands on his chest, slowly moves them up to the back of his neck, where his hair has rejected the attempts to tame it. El stands on her tiptoes to reach him, to really look at him. His expressive eyes, his freckled nose, his lush lips. She shuts her eyes when she kisses him, properly this time. Open mouthed and passionate. He responds immediately, wrapping his arms around her waist to hoist her up. Feet no longer touching the ground, El feels like she’s floating. Floating in some other dimension.

He tastes like red wine and smells like cologne. It’s insane that he’s still wearing his stupid suit jacket, so she tugs it off him like a petulant child. Then she unbuttons his dress shirt, and he has to remind her that they’re not in any private space, and that anyone can walk in on them acting like two teenagers in love at their best friends’ wedding.

“Okay,” she says, before kissing him again.

“No I’m serious,” Mike says, pulling away, smiling. “My room, or yours?”

“Whichever is closer.”

They stumble into her room, slamming the door shut behind them. The dress shirt comes off, the dress comes off, the slacks come off.

All the walls come off too; the protective walls that made her withdraw from him in the first place. She didn’t want them anymore. Didn’t need them.

He kisses her neck, nibbling the flesh like he knows she likes. Tracing the kisses further down the planes of her chest, her breasts. They rise and fall with each breath, heavy and impatient for more. He captures one, then the other with his mouth, enjoying how she buckles under him in response. He moves further down, over her ribcage, into the hollow of her abdomen, her navel. His unruly hair traces the spots he kisses, delighting her. She giggles; hands sprawled out on the sheets, anticipating the pleasure when he reaches the sweet spot.

They’ve only ever been with one another, learning the idiosyncrasies of their bodies together. She loved to entwine her hands in his hair as he pleasured her, and he knew the rhythm, the spot to take her there. Mike loved how she kissed him afterwards, sloppy and full on the mouth. Sometimes she smiled in that satisfied kind of way, other times she grew more impatient and helped guide him inside, always surprised at how good he felt. After all those years, surprised at how their bodies grew accustomed to each other, yet how every thrust and movement still sent them both into a passionate frenzy, always clinging to one another as if it was the last time.

Sweaty and breathless, hair plastered to their foreheads. Limbs tangled together haphazardly.

“Mike?” She whispers, breaking the verbal silence. He looks her in the eyes, brushes away a stray hair from her cheek. “Do you know that I love you very much?”

He laughs. It’s a full, wonderful laugh, not marred by anxiety or discomfort. “I love you very much too, Eleven.” Mike kisses her again, and she smiles against his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading and hopefully enjoying this story! I loved writing Eleven and Mike as adults, and hopefully I will revisit this pairing in some capacity soon! :)

**Author's Note:**

> I have already finished the complete first draft of this fic, so it will be posted in its entirety relatively quickly. This story deals with some adult themes, as the characters have been aged up. At its core, it's a romance story with very little to no world building. Enjoy!


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